A Change of Plans
by awaltzf0ranight
Summary: This is mostly hermione centric. The story is AU. This is a H/Hr. This is my first time writing any fanfiction so please be patient. The chapters will start out small but will get longer. There will be swearing.
1. Chapter 1

AN: This is my first story. I do not own anything. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling. Please review. I would love criticism or even just a small sentence on whether you liked the story or hated it. thank

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She sat there waiting for her parents to pick her up from the station.

Actually, she was waiting for Frank to find her and bring her to the limo where her parents would be waiting to greet her. It was easier for her parents to stay in the car rather than be outside since we are quite recognizable especially when it is the three of us together. The only reason no one recognized her as one of the hottest socialite that graced the London scene was because she looked nothing like a socialite would look like. There was nothing flashy on the girl waiting on the bench surrounded by her luggage. Unless you looked closer and then you would notice how her shoes weren't the kind you would find at a normal shoe store. They were Marc Jacobs mary jane shoes that no normal teenager would wear. If you looked closer at her clothes you would notice that each and every piece was high quality cloth, a much higher quality than one would find a normal person would wear. Her hair was flowing freely and covered most of her beautiful face. No one would have given this girl a second glance and so would not have realized that she was the daughter of a former theater actress and the owner of one of the highest grossing companies in England and even the world.

Hermione Granger was not the daughter of two dentists as she had told her good friends at Hogwarts but rather one of those many socialites one reads in the paper. She knew what happened when people realized that you had money. They changed and saw and treated you differently. This girl did not want to be treated different but she wanted to be treated equally. She wanted people to know she was not just her money and that there was so much more to who she was. It was very hard to find true friends like that and she really didn't have those friends in the muggle world. Her only true friends in this world were her parents. She did feel guilty lying to her friends in Hogwarts but she didn't want things to change. Ron already had problems with the fact Harry had more money. He would probably get really jealous and git-like if she told him that she probably had more money than Harry. And Harry... Poor Harry ... he doesn't need to know. He will never return to the muggle world. This world had nothing to offer him except being neglected and hurt. She felt Harry didn't want to really know very much about the muggle world and so probably didn't want to know about her muggle life. The boy also had too much to think about (such as Voldermort and the loss of Sirius) than to wonder what his best friend's muggle life is like the girl on the bench thought.

Still sitting there, the girl began to rub her chest gently. Underneath her clothing there was a very large scar than ran across her chest. The school nurse had done a wonderful job at healing the girl before she left for home but deep down the girl knew that the injury would never truly heal. The injury would always hurt just a little bit and she felt as though that hurt would not go away until she confronted the one person that caused the injury. Maybe someday the girl thought she would get her chance to help throw Dolohov into Azkaban. She looked down at her custom made swiss watch and wondered where her parents or Frank were. They were never this late.

* * *

I just sat there staring out into space. It was almost as if I couldn't believe I was sitting at a funeral watching my parents being lowered into the ground. Who were all these people at the funeral? Did my parents really_ know_ any of these people that have come to pay their respects? Did any of these people even care or even know who my parents were? No she thought as the priest's voice washed over her already disengaged mind. None of these people knew who the Granger's truly were. They did not know how strong the three of us were when we were together or how lost I will be once it hits me that those bodies in those coffins were really my parents. These people didn't even know how they really died. It was not because of carbon monoxide poisoning but fucking Tom Riddle trying to make a point. He killed my parents- my loving, kind, fun, caring, happy parents. He murdered the most important people in the world -- he murdered the only people who truly knew, understood and accepted who I truly was.

My aunt is sobbing next to me - the bitch- she doesn't really care about my parents. The only reason she came her was because she wants the world to see how grief stricken she is over the loss of her beloved brother. She also wants to know whether or she she gets all of her beloved brother's money. That's all my extended family is thinking about I just know it. They all think one of them will become my guardian and so will be _trusted_ with the company until I am of age and ready to take over.

Neither of my parents got along with their respective siblings. It seemed everyone was jealous of their success just as all my cousin were jealous of me. It worked out well since neither of my parents keep in touch with my aunts or uncles. It was very rare that they would come and see my parents and so it was very hard for me to believe that they actually came here to grieve. All my life my parents have been there to support me, laugh with me, scold me, help me, and love me. What will I do now? Who will I turn to? Who will laugh at my jokes or cry with me when I have a really bad day? Who will see who I truly am?

* * *

I haven't cried yet.

I didn't cry when I showed up at my house and there were officers running around my front porch.

I didn't cry when I saw two black body bags that I knew carried the bodies of my parents being taken out of my home.

I didn't cry when the officer told me that they had been found by Frank this morning when he came to pick them up so they could get me at the station.

I didn't cry at the funeral or during the reading of the will where I found out that they emancipated me in both worlds and left me everything.

I didn't cry when I pulled Dumbledore aside and demanded to know whether or not Voldermort murdered my parents. I didn't shed a single tear when the headmaster confirmed my suspicions nor when I told him that I did not want the wizarding world to know about my parents death. I made him promise not to tell a soul about the death of my parents and told him that if I found out that the Order was watching me for _my protection_ I was going to shoot them with the shot gun my father kept in his office drawer. I was emancipated in both the muggle and wizarding world and so could use magic to protect myself and did not need nor want him meddling.

I didn't even cry when neighbors, coworkers, formers theater producers, the dry cleaner, etc stopped by the house to express their sadness at the loss of my parents.

After a few days, people finally started leaving me alone and stopped stopping by the house. The house was empty now that no one stopped by. I sent all the food, gifts, flowers, and shit that everyone _so kindly _thought a grieving daughter would need to the nearest homeless shelter. I had no use for such things.

I slowly walked through every room in my house trying to remember what they looked like before all this death and darkness. I silently walked into my parents bedroom. It looked as though they had just gone to work for they day and would return soon. The bed was made and the night cloths put away. I crawled into the large soft bed and just lay there staring out of the window on the ceiling. It was a beautifully clear night. At some point during that night -- or was it day-- I cried,


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Nothing is mine except John

My summer was very different from my normal relaxing summers at home. After the funeral and will reading and my crying fit, I immediately called for a meeting with the board of my father's company. There was much to discuss and much to figure out since the company had effectively lost its leader. At first the board of directors were very surprised since it was not very long since _their _deaths but they didn't stay shocked for very long. I made sure that they knew that I wanted to be part of this company and eventually become the new leader of the company. At the moment we all agreed that was an unwise decision since I had no education or experience in running a business. So it was decided that the board would run the company in my absence and when I was ready I would take over the company. I just asked if the board would just keep me informed about the goings on and decision they take. It was very important for me to be part of this company. It was part of who my father was and I made a promise to myself that I would be a part of the company.

The rest of my summer I spent training to fight and defend myself without a wand. I felt that I needed to know how to fight just incase I lost my wand during a real fight with a death eater. I learned to use swords, daggers, guns, and my own body to defend myself. I practiced and practiced until using them were second nature. Whenever I did sleep I kept a knife and a gun under my pillow and my wand strapped to my thigh courtesy of a custom made holster. Whenever I went out I strapped on my daggers and guns just incase something happened. I ordered books from Diagon Alley about defense and dark arts so that I could learn about what I was truly fighting. I hated not knowing something and just because people felt that the knowledge was "dark" didn't mean I shouldn't know about it. NO one knew of my vigorous training. I used charms to hide my dagger whenever I went out and since the Order were not looking after me, no one in the wizarding world knew. On the outside, I still looked and acted like the partying socialite the world knew. I went out every night with people who were so that it made my brain hurt. I still drank and danced and smoked and acted like I always used to love. It felt different though because I had this sense of desperation and this sense of fear. I did everything I could to keep from dwelling on my loss on my grief and on my pain.

I barely slept that summer. I spent most of my nights out partying and woke up early to train. My body became used to feeling tired and exhausted but still I never stopped or rested. I couldn't stop or rest because I would have to actually think and feel. It was the summer where I realized I could push my body to extremes and still function normally enough for my best mates to not notice my exhaustion. It was on one of my many nights of dining at high end restaurants that I noticed John walking toward our table. John Foster was the nephew of a very famous actor in America and the son of a wealthy business woman. I never understood what his mother did but she made marriage an Olypic sport. I think she recently remarried -- number three I believe. John was the first boy I ever kissed and the first boy I ever slept with. He was the first boy I had feelings of love for but I knew it would never work out so we just had friends with benefits relationship. No real strings attached. I was glad to see him because I knew he would serve as such a delicious distraction this summer. Sad to say he didn't stay the whole summer.

"Hey Mi," he said grabbing me from behind, "You are looking just as lovely as before. Actually I think you have grown even hotter and I can't wait till I can really find out."

"Where have you been? You have missed some of the greatest parties to date and missed all of my intelligent sarcasm that no one else got here" I said turning around in his arms. Before he could say anything I captured his mouth a very long and passionate kiss. I hadn't seen this boy in a year and he was still as beautiful and as wonderful as I remembered. A choking cough broke us apart and John turned us so we could see who needed help just to be floored by who I saw. John started speaking without realizing that either of us were even listening.

" Mi I wanted you to meet my cousin who I recentaly came to know existed. He basically ran away from home because he needed a break and so he came to seek shelter within my the shadow of my greatness so I may teach him my ways. Sadly I have to be back at uni earlier than I expected so I'll be leaving in a few days. So I thought who was the best person to show this lovely gent the ways of our wonderful lifestyle than my partner in crime -- you" said John.

I barely heard or understood what John was telling me. How could he think that this wizard would want to learn anything about muggles? How could he think I would be the one too teach him let alone stand in the same room with him? What did he say about this piece of shit's parents? I could not even think straight and just stood there gaping at none other than Draco Malfoy.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Sorry it has been so long since I updated. I have had a really hard time emotionally and it just seems that I can't do anything at the moment. I am surprised I was able to write anything. Hopefully it is good enough. I am not sure if I will continue with two different POVs in this story. I think i like just having Hermione's but we will see. Please remember nothing belongs to me. It all belongs to J.K Rowling.

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Draco Malfoy had run away. He couldn't believe he could do such a juvenile, such a childish thing. Only children ran away from home when they felt they couldn't handle things--only coward ran away from things instead of facing them. Even thought he was not a Gryffindor and so was not inherently brave, running away was something a Malfoy would never do. Yet no matter how he looked at it no matter what he said he had still run away. He had been trained since his childhood to be a death eater; to be cold and calculating, to be fearless and loyal, to be faithful to blood purity, to respect his family name above all-- and yet here he was standing at the doorstep of a relative that did not exist in his life until a few hours ago.

He was my father's youngest brother. I had never known there were any other Malfoy's beside my father.

It was tradition for the Malfoy's to have only one child and that child was always male.

Tradition dictated that when the second child turned out to be a squib he was sent away and so erased from the Malfoy family.

Tradition dictated that when this relative contacted my father he was denied even the simple request for a meeting.

Tradition did not allow for the fact that my mother kept in touch with this squib uncle of mine.

I do not understand why she would do such a thing since she was a Black and so knew everything there was about traditions and blood loyalty. Still as I was sneaking out, my mother did not stop me but just handed me an address and hugged me. She never said a word nor did I.

I have so many questions... I have so many doubts (_was this the right thing to do? am i a coward? are they even home? were these people even Malfoys?_)... I have so many fears and yet I do not turn back to go home. Any child would turn back and seek the comforts that he or she had run away from. Draco Malfoy was not a coward and so with that thought I knocked on their door.

* * *

The Foster's were very nice people. I still haven't gotten over the fact that I am staying with muggles.

My uncle—it is still weird when I even think that—married some muggle women and decided to repopulate the earth. He had four kids already and it seems as though his wife is pregnant again. I cannot seem to call her my aunt because no matter what she is still a muggle and it is engrained in me to hate her. It is very hard to be polite but I am working on it.

My _uncle _is very rich. It seems he is some very big businessman that runs some sort of company. I did not realize when I stepped onto his porch that the house was almost as big as the Malfoy mansion. He did not even ask why I came— he just opened the door and let me in his house, his life, and into his family.

They are very nice people and it seems as thought I had finally found a place where I could fit in. Yet I was still uncomfortable not being surrounded by magic and knew that once I had gotten past the fact I ran away, I would look for another place to live. No need to burden these nice people with a wizard bigot.

It was the events two days before I showed up at their doorstep that had me running away from the manor. I was still the ignorant little boy who thought his father was the smartest person in the world and that serving Voldermort was the only thing worth living for.

At that point Father had finally thought it prudent to introduce me to the Dark Lord himself. He thought I needed to truly be introduced to what it really meant to be a Death eater. I was so excited that I would finally be able to fulfill the dream that was trust upon me since I was a little boy. I knew that tonight would be the night I truly became a Death eater.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

* * *

The first thing I noticed was the smell. It smelled like meat burning and sweat and smoke and something utterly wrong.

Once I had wrapped my head around the disgusting smell, I was assaulted by the noise-- the screams.

Screams of pain from people being tortured and burned.

Screams of mercy from those being raped and mutilated.

Screams of excitement and joy from those in masks and black robes.

I looked around for my father, who seemingly had disappeared the minute we arrived, and was shocked to see what he was doing. Here was the man I thought was the smartest and greatest man in the world and whose words were my Bible and yet there he was encouraging the raping of these random women. These women were muggles and my father was encouraging death eaters to defile themselves with muggles. These were muggles and so they were lowers than scum and still these men were _fucking_ them. It didn't make sense. Death eaters had nothing to do with muggle and yet here they were surrounding us being tortured, raped, and burned.

This was not the death eater life I had imagined. I imagined fighting against the mudbloods and blood traitors and purifying the wizard world. It had nothing to do with muggles--they were just objects that had to be exterminated but not tortured.

"Come son," my father said as he clasped my shoulder, "The Dark Lord will being speaking and you need to pay attention to all he says."

I did not even notice when my father steered me towards the circle of people surrounding a throne. I was able to see through the people and what I saw on the throne chilled me to the bones. It was not even human but more snake like. It had red eyes and slits for a nose and I really thought his tongue would come slithering out like a real snake.

I did not hear a single word and knew that I needed to get out before I threw up. When faced with the reality of my dream all I wanted to do was turn away and flee. I prayed I would be able to get through this night without anyone noticing how I wanted to get out.

Suddenly those red eyes locked eyes with mine and I felt as though he knew everything I had just thought. I needed to get out or else I would never be free of this dream I finally realized I did not want.

Those eyes trapped me and imprisoned me. I felt, I felt -- everything and nothing and that terrified me. Before I knew it I was no longer ensconced by those eyes but I was safe in my room……in my bed….away from those red eyes.

* * *

My morbid thoughts were interrupted my one of _my cousin_ asking me if I wanted to go out. At first I had no idea what the guy-- John was it? -- was saying until he mentioned he had to go out to a club to meet some of his friends and I should come along. So after a long explanation as to what going out entailed, I sat in a taxi – was that the right term? – heading towards some place where muggles went to drink and dance.

I knew I needed to get to know some new people so I could find a different place to live. The Foster's were leaving for their summer home somewhere in Spain and so I would be without a place to live. I found it too weird to impose on their vacation time even thought they said it was fine.

We were lead straight to this special area – John called it the VIP area – and before I could even blink I had a drink in my hand. I was surrounded by people dancing – actually it was more like having sex standing up – and I definitely wanted to try this new way of dancing. The drinks were good and the girls were hot and I knew I could at least get a shag out of this outing.

I was completely ready to throw always the Malfoy rules and traditions that I had grown up. I was going to change into a new Draco Malfoy. One that did not hate muggles but rather appreciated there wonderful assets – especially the assets of Johns friends (that_ brunette he is kissing has a very nice ass). _When he turned her around to introduce me to her, I choked on my drink because the girl I was admiring turned out to be no other that Hermione Granger and I knew that my life would change more than I had planned.

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AN: Please review. I would love to know what everyone thought and please no flames. I would like constructive criticism. Also I am having a ahrd time getting the formatting correct. If someone would be kind enough to tel me how to fix it so that it doesn't hurt your eyes when you read that would be great.


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